It all started with boredom.
Boredom is the root of EVERYTHING.
I went to hunt for CS games on Garena.
I typed in the usual command to list down local servers and came across a server with my friend's name on it.
So I went in and greeted him.
But the host was my friend's little brother, who told me that the guy I was looking for had gone out.
To kill time, I thought I'd get acquainted with his little brother.
I asked him for his name.
He started being all cheeky, telling me to call him 'Dragon Knight!'
I got annoyed pretty quickly, so I thought that I'd show him!
So I texted his brother:
What's your brother's name?
A few seconds later, a reply came:
Who is this
My brain didn't really register anything wrong yet, so I texted back slightly annoyed, thinking that he deleted my number or something.
-.- steph.
My phone started ringing.
Feeling irritable (I was playing CS), I picked up.
"Hello?"
"Who are you?"
"Er. Steph?"
"WHO?"
"Stephanie la. ABO?"
He exhaled and mumbled something, and immediately I knew something was wrong.
Hastily, I pulled a 180. Retreat!
Hastily, I pulled a 180. Retreat!
"Sorry, I can't hear you. WHAT?"
I hung up.
Warning bells rang in my mind:
GIRLFRIEND!
Sure enough, I was proven right a few moments later - feminine instinct is rarely wrong.
My gf. Wrong number k?
I paused, mentally chiding myself for not having catching on earlier.
I texted back:
Er okay lol have fun :D
Oh lord, how would I know she was reading his messages?
My phone rang again.
I sent a busy tone.
And it rang again.
I whacked the little red phone icon and went back to my game.
It rang a third time.
I hung up and put the phone on silent.
Then I received a text:
Pick up and say wrong number. Don't reply.
At this point I was getting really annoyed. Why should I layan him?
But I sighed. He was my friend, however short a period that was - he'd never done me wrong before, so I'd put up with this little bit of weirdness.
However, the phone remained silent for 5 minutes. CS absorbed me once again - until my phone started vibrating crazily on the table.
It wasn't his number. I assumed it was the girlfriend.
I picked up.
"Hello?"
"Who are you?" she barked.
I felt affronted by her rudeness.
"Who are YOU?" I replied.
"I asked, who are you?"
I let a long, weary sigh. "Steph."
"Were you looking for C?"
[Name removed, just in case she Googles his name or some shit. Who knows?]
[Name removed, just in case she Googles his name or some shit. Who knows?]
"Huh? No? I was looking for a Daniel? Wrong number la." I let my annoyance creep into my voice. (I told Clams that I stole his name and he was damn happy. XD)
She sounded like a pouty little kid.
"Oh."
A few moments passed in silence.
"Okay."
She hung up.
5 seconds later, my phone rang. It was C's number this time.
"Hello?" He said in a rough voice.
"Who are you?" I let out another sigh.
"Who are YOU? YOU called me. Who are you looking for?"
"I'm Steph LA. Who are YOU? Oh my god LAR I CALLED THE WRONG NUMBER OK? I'm looking for a DAAAANNNIIEELLLL."
"YOU SIMPLY DIAL WRONG NUMBER DON'T TALK LA!"
I was seething. I swore that if he didn't call me by the next day to explain this charade I would get on the next plane to Sarawak and rip his testicles off.
"OKAY LA. I'M SORRY LA, I CALLED THE WRONG NUMBER. GEEZ. SORRY."
Then I slid my phone shut with a loud snap - the closest I could get to slamming down a phone's receiver.
Damned cellphones.
I thought that was the end of that and patted myself on the back for keeping my cool and going on with whatever the hell was happening between C and his insane girlfriend.
I was amusedly relating all this to Daniel, Mona and Ling when my phone rang again.
*number withheld*
I rolled my eyeballs.
Yea yea bitch, who doesn't know it's you and your paranoia calling me - the mistress?
I picked up and gave the most irritated-but-under-control voice I could muster.
"Hellllllllllo?"
"Hi. I'm the girl from just now."
No duh.
"I'm not...I'm not...the other girl, but I'm a friend and I just want to make sure you really don't know C."
"I. Said. I. Don't. Know. C."
"Where do you live?"
"What? Why should I tell you where I live? I TOLD you, I got the WRONG NUMBER."
I said it really slowly in case her 2 brain cells weren't capable of absorbing that shocking piece of information.
"WHERE do you live?"
"OHMYGOD I LIVE IN KL OK?"
Her voice started shaking, like she was going to burst into angry tears.
"I...want you...to tell me the number you wanted to dial, not C's number."
Shit.
I froze.
I didn't know C's number. God, I just keyed it into the phone book and forgot it instantly - modern innovations really rot your brain.
How was I going to lie my way out of this one? How could I give a number one digit different from C's if I didn't even KNOW his number?
I briefly contemplated looking up the number while pretending to drop my phone. I dismissed it immediately. How stupid.
"IT'S A WRONG NUMBER! I JUST DIALLED IT AND I DIALLED IT WRONGLY OK? HOW WOULD I KNOW WHAT THE HELL I DIALLED?"
There, I purposely 'misunderstood' her request.
She paused, seemingly unconvinced.
"Okay. I want you to call this number."
"What? WHY? WHY SHOULD I DO THAT? IT'S JUST A WRONG NUMBER, OK? CAN YOU STOP HARASSING ME?"
"It's not harassing...I'm just...it's...it's complicated...look. Just use your house phone and call the number ok?"
"Will you leave me alone after that?"
She starts reciting the number.
"Will. You. Not. Call. Me. Back. After. I. Have. Done. That?"
Again, with the patronizing slow enunciation of each word.
"Yes, yes, now call me."
"Fine. Let me get a pen."
"Okay."
I slammed my poor phone - victim of the circumstances - down on the table and fumbled around for a pen.
"Okay. 016..?"
She recited the rest of the number and I scribbled it down hastily, the nib of the pen digging into the paper thanks to my irritation.
"Okay, I'm going to call you now. Are you happy?"
"No, no, I...yes...you..."
I clicked the 'end' button without waiting for that pathetic whiny voice to continue ('Ugly bitch'! I cursed in my head) and stomped over to my house phone with the little slip of paper clutched tightly in my hand.
I was practically fuming when I punched in the numbers.
She picked up again.
She picked up again.
"Hello?"
"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"
"No, no I'm just...I'm not the other girl...I just wanted to make very sure that you don't know C at all."
"I SAID, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"
"Just rest...rest a bit..."
JESUS! THE BITCH WAS ASKING ME TO RELAX!
(@#&^$%#&#@
"Okay."
"Sorry, I was just checking. It's a complicated situation you see, and I'm not the other half, I'm just a friend and I want to make sure that my friend's relationship is alright..."
I cut her off.
"It is a WRONG number. Look, I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry that I MESSED UP your relationship or WHATEVER, but it's a WRONG NUMBER ok? SORRY."
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I'm doing this for C, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"Are you done? Do you want me to do anything else for you? Can I go back to sleep now?"
(The last part was complete bullshit - but it WAS 2 am in the morning and I wanted her to feel at least the slightest bit shitty for bothering me. Not that she did. But oh well.)
"I want you to..."
Oh my fucking golashes. She was actually COMMANDING me further!
The cheek!
"...to say 'I don't know C at all.'"
"I don't know C at all." I repeatedly tonelessly, like a bored student.
"And I do NOT want you to ACCIDENTALLY call this number again, ok?"
I lost it.
"It's a WRONG NUMBER, OK? HOW DO I FUCKING REDIAL A WRONG NUMBER? Tell me. TELL ME."
Silence on the other end.
This time, I had the satisfaction of banging down the receiver smartly.
You would think that the lunatic would have had enough already, wouldn't you?
After all, I HAD called her from the house phone, proving that I was, indeed, residing in KL - far, far over the ocean and away from her precious boyfriend.
Well, I guess she wasn't happy that I had the last word.
15 minutes later...
Okay now i'm the gal just now. I text u now, no matter u know C or not, i want u to make sure that u dun ever dial the wrong number or whatever shit ok. Don't dial dat fucking number. His gf is having a hard time now. We don't care u dial wrong or not cos u seriously got nothing to prove. Ok? Pls don't (...)
Broken message.
Darn. Just as it was getting juicy.
Well, that just about cements my already pretty strong belief that she is completely insane and absolutely retarded.
What. Don't care if I dialled wrongly?
Seriously, the fucking bitch thinks I would deliberately dial a wrong number to amuse myself, thus wasting my money and effort AND not getting my message through to the INTENDED receipient.
We don't care u dial wrong or not cos u seriously got nothing to prove.
WHO was the fucking BITCH who insisted on harassing me until I did what she wanted and called her, giving away my HOUSE phone number just so she would shut the fuck up and stop calling my handphone already?
Nothing to prove?
THEN WHY DID SHE ASK ME TO DO THAT HUH?
NOTHING TO PROVE?
Mahai. Insolent fucker.
Fuck you. Leave me alone you insane bitch. If i dial a wrong number its NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS OK? I already layan you so damn much to relieve your FUCKING paranoia so leave me the hell alone. Do NOT contact me again.
There.
Precise and relatively short. Though it cost me 2 texts of 1, it was pretty worth it cause she finally shut the fuck up and left me alone.
In between the calls and texts, I was relating the breaking news to Mona and Daniel, both pestering me to give me a number so they could fuck her up nicely.
Verbally, duh.
I declined.
I would give Caleb a chance to apologize and explain first.
Just in case she's some depressed suicidal girl who goes and slashes her own throat with a broken shotglass or something (sounded like they were clubbing from the first phone call.)
Although the world could certainly do without a girl like that (drunk or not, her actions were unforgivable) I really don't want a suicide on my conscience.
Anyway, 30 minutes later, the drama wrapped up with one short text from C:
If anybody at all ask about me make dunno k? Act like its a wrong number. Sorry. Don't reply.
Okay.
That wasn't exactly the apology I intended to beat out of him, but I'm assuming that was the longest he could text without his raving mad girlfriend swooping down on him and demanding to read each and every one of his texts. (I bet she does, anyway. Maybe he sneaked to the bathroom or something.)
I'm still thinking the best of him and I expect a full explanation and apology from him tomorrow.
God knows he owes me one after all that (very-much-forced) humble apologies I had to spit out, besides lying my arse off for him.
If he gets mad at me for calling his girlfriend an insane bitch or decides to pretend not to know me after all, I've got my backup plan ready.
I'm going to make a phone call to that insecure, paranoid, overbearing, murderous, boyfriend-controlling hag - and telling her that I'm fucking her precious boyfriend.
And then I get my happy ending.
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